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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Trailin'!"

"
"We'll get Glendin behind us first."
"Why him?"
"Play safe. Glendin can swear us in as deputies to--'apprehend,' as he
calls it, this Bard. Apprehendin' a feller like Bard simply means to
shoot him down and ask him to come along afterward, see?"
"Nash, you got a great head. You ought to be one of these lawyers. There
ain't nothin' you can't find a way out of. But will Glendin do it?"
"He'll do what I ask him to do."
"Friend of yours?"
"Better'n a friend."
"Got something on him?"
"These here questions, they ain't polite, Shorty," grinned Nash.
"All right. You do the leadin' in this game and I'll jest follow suit.
But lay your course with nothin' but the tops'ls flyin', because I've
got an idea we're goin' to hit a hell of a storm before we get back to
port, Steve."
"For my part," answered Nash, "I'm gettin' used to rough weather."
They saddled their horses and cut across the hills straight for Eldara.
Kilrain spurred viciously, and the roan had hard work keeping up.
"Hold in," called Nash after a time. "Save your hoss, Shorty.


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